


The Mistake

by toushindai (WallofIllusion)



Category: Baccano!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-15
Updated: 2016-01-15
Packaged: 2018-05-14 01:17:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,599
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5724073
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WallofIllusion/pseuds/toushindai
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Huey is grateful for Elmer's support, if the bastard would just stop joking around long enough and let him express it for once.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Mistake

**Author's Note:**

> 1710\. The day before... well, you know.

“So!” Elmer said. “Tomorrow’s the big day.”

“…Yes.” 

And Huey’s mind was racing, going over the plan again and again as he searched for weak spots or potential problems he had failed to anticipate. The rapid expansion of the Mask Maker name wasn’t something he’d undertaken lightly; there were few people in this city he trusted. But he’d needed manpower. He would have to rely on the townspeople’s fear of the Dormentaires to fuel their loyalty tomorrow, and thereby his success—

“Wrong way,” Elmer said, catching the elbow of his shirt as Huey was about to turn into an alley. Huey blinked and focused on the darkening streets around him. Muscle memory had turned him eastward, towards Monica’s home. He was supposed to be headed towards his own home.

“Sorry,” he said.

“No worries,” Elmer answered, grinning. “Distracted?”

“You could say that.” 

“I bet you’re excited.”

Excited was certainly a word for it, though there were other words for the shaking of his hands, the buzzing in his brain, the constant turning of his stomach. He’d spent half a year dreaming of seeing Monica again, but his mind refused to connect his plan for tomorrow with the image of holding her in his arms. Had he grown accustomed to not having her? Did he think it was all a dream, an impossibility? He’d done his best to keep his hope under control so that it wouldn’t consume him, but now his pessimism felt like a prescient certainty that something would go wrong.

Elmer threw an arm over his shoulders. “C’mon, Huey,” he said, “smile. You’re going to see her again soon.”

Unable to match his friend’s optimism, Huey only shook his head. No smile right now.

Elmer gave an exaggerated sigh—but Huey had been like this for months, so he couldn’t have been too surprised. “Alright. Tomorrow, though. You promised.”

“Tomorrow—yes.” He thought of holding Monica again, and his heart tried to leap out of his chest. 

They continued in silence for a little while, Elmer’s arm still slung over Huey’s shoulders. If they encountered anyone, he would probably pretend to be drunk, Huey helping him home; at least, he had in the past. Apparently he found this entertaining. Huey found it obnoxious, most days, but tonight he was reassured by the predictability of it all. Elmer was Elmer. He wasn’t normal, and it turned out that he wasn’t really all that kind or good-hearted, but in a way, he was reliable. He was the one part of tomorrow’s plan that Huey knew wouldn’t go wrong.

“Elmer…”

“Hm?”

“Thank you.”

In the safety of an empty alleyway, Huey shrugged out from under Elmer’s arm and stopped walking, turning to face his friend. His face was serious. 

“I couldn’t have done any of this without you. I wouldn’t have been able to focus myself, or recruit people like you do—”

“You think so? I think you did a good job of recruiting, yourself.”

Huey snorted, shaking his head. “Thugs and punks, the kind who are easily tempted. No one particularly trustworthy.” 

“You’ve just described the majority of the city, so…” Elmer cackled. “Pretty sure you’ve done most of the work.”

“I mean it, Elmer. I’m grateful.” 

“If you’re grateful, then smile,” Elmer answered, his own grin comfortable on his face. “Honestly, Huey, there’s nothing you have to thank me for. I’m doing this because I want to see your smile, you know that.”

“Elmer…” 

“I’m looking for my fix, and I miss your smile. Monica’s, too. That’s all this is.”

“Elmer, listen to me.” 

He found himself gripping the collar of Elmer’s jacket. What he wanted to do was say _shut up and just let me be grateful_. To explain that this meant something to him, that he was _letting_ it mean something to him, and that wasn’t something he did lightly. This was what he meant to do, what he pictured himself doing. This was what he had every intention of doing when he moved.

What he did instead was push Elmer against the wall and press their lips together.

He felt Elmer’s gasp of surprise. That should have been his cue to step back, but instead he only held Elmer’s collar tighter and kissed him harder. And then Elmer began to return the kiss, his lips clumsy, his hands coming to rest on Huey’s elbows. Huey found himself pressed up against him, his body warm and solid and grounding in the damp evening air. This was different from Monica, but it was good in its own way, it—

 _Monica_.

With a gasp, Huey pushed back from Elmer, his thoughts shattering like glass. He stared at Elmer, wide-eyed, his heart pounding.

Elmer’s response was to stare back, eyebrows raised. He looked completely untroubled. “That was unexpected.”

“I—” Huey tried to catch his breath, wracking his brain in search of an explanation for what had just happened. But nothing came out.

Elmer watched him for a moment, then gave a light chuckle. “Okay. Well. There are a few ways we can look at this.” He leaned back against the wall and began ticking them off on his fingers. “Easiest explanation: Are you drunk?”

“I am _not_ ,” Huey retorted. “Do you think I’d risk a hangover tomorrow?”

“Just checking! You could be drunk on the stars, or the ocean air. Or maybe you were daydreaming and mistook me for Monica—”

“Elmer, for _once_ in your life, could you please be serious.” The jokes weren’t helping. There had to be an explanation here, and he had to find it, but his mind was moving in fits and starts. 

“I _was_ serious.” Elmer shrugged. “Well, the next most likely answer is that you did that because you wanted to.”

_…Oh._

Huey’s mind stuttered to a complete halt, dumbfounded by the simplicity of the answer Elmer proposed.

_Because I… wanted to?_

“From there,” Elmer continued, either oblivious to the way Huey’s thoughts were stuck or deliberately trying to get them moving again, “there are a few more questions to be addressed. I’m just guessing, but it seemed like you enjoyed that?”

Huey glanced away.

Taking that for the answer it was, Elmer nodded. “Well, that’s a good thing in my book. Right? I didn’t mind the kiss, so don’t worry about that. I don’t see any harm in it, especially if it was just a physical thing, to let off a little pressure. And I won’t tell Monica if you don’t—I know she worries about this kind of thing sometimes, so I’ll leave that up to you. I mean, I wouldn’t _keep_ doing it without getting clear with her, but one time isn’t a big deal.”

Huey’s cheeks prickled uncomfortably with embarrassment. There was a question that kept trying to surface in his mind, but some instinct kept burying it.

“ _Was_ it just a physical thing, by the way?” Elmer asked.

That. That was the question. And after five solid years of snapping at anyone who dared to think he was attracted to Elmer, he should have had an easy answer to it. But for some reason it wasn’t springing to mind right now.

Elmer didn’t wait for him to find the words. Instead, he scratched the back of his head, stymied. “’Cause if it’s not just a physical thing, that’s… different. Setting aside the fact that I don’t think I’m really capable of love, _you_ have a girlfriend. Who you’ve just built an entire criminal organization to rescue. You still love her, right?”

“ _Yes._ ”

At least _that_ answer still came easily, and Huey’s pounding heart calmed a little. Yes—yes, he still loved Monica. Nothing changed that. Whatever had just happened—whatever he’d just done—didn’t change that.

“Right, that’s what I thought. So…” Elmer’s brow furrowed. “It _was_ just physical? Seriously, I don’t mind at all if it was.”

Huey’s whole face prickled red now, and he was glad that the dark kept Elmer from seeing it. He felt like there was something lodged in his throat, something he’d tried to swallow that he hadn’t quite managed.

It hadn’t been “just physical,” but he didn’t know what it had been.

“It was a mistake,” he finally forced out, his voice clipped.

Elmer raised one eyebrow. “It was pretty long for a mistake,” he pointed out. “That kiss was like, what, ten seconds at least?”

“A mistake,” Huey repeated. “I wasn’t thinking clearly. That’s all. Just forget about it, alright?”

Elmer peered at his face for a moment, then shrugged. “Alright. Works for me! Can I give you one piece of advice though?”

“If you tell me to smile, Elmer, I _swear_ I will hit you.”

“That’s not advice, that’s a demand. You should, though,” Elmer said, cheerfully accepting a slug to the arm for his impertinence. “My _advice_ is this: once you _are_ thinking clearly, after reunion and smiles and hugs and all that good stuff, maybe spend a little time figuring it out? You don’t have to tell me about it if you don’t want—it’s all the same to me as long as you smile—but I don’t want this eating at you for too long. Got it?”

It was, shockingly, good advice; there would be time to sort all of this out once Monica was safe and his again. Huey inclined his head in a nod that was nigh-imperceptible in the twilight and turned away from his friend. “We should split up and head home,” he said.

“Yup!” Elmer clapped him on the back. “See you tomorrow morning, Mask Maker. I’ll be dreaming about your smile.”


End file.
